


The One where Q talks in his sleep

by dontkeepmehere



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Sleep talking, Sleep talking Q, Tumblr Prompt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontkeepmehere/pseuds/dontkeepmehere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://thegirlwhowasengulfedinflames.tumblr.com">thegirlwhowasengulfedinflames</a> who asked: <em>What if one of them talks in their sleep? It’d be so nice to see it in a fluffy way, but if you see it as more angsty, I’d love to read it!</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fluff

“You talk in you sleep,” James mumbles as he runs his hands through Q’s mop of hair. The boy just snuggles closer to Bond so that his head rests on James’ chest and their legs are intertwined underneath the thick covers. “It’s…interesting.”

“Mhmm,” Q’s response is completely absorbed Bond’s chest so the man can’t tell what’s been said. James carefully lifts Q’s head away from his sternum and prompts him to repeat what he’s just said. The boy just flops back down. “Stop it…m’sleepy.”

“Clearly.” Bond rests his hand on Q’s head playing with the strand that always falls slightly off, he twists it between his fingers encouraging the natural curl of the hair. If Bond had been immature he would have suggested that Q’s hair is listed as a national treasure. There’s something about the way it curls just so, the way it fluffs up when Q’s anxious, the way it looks after James has fucked him hard. On second thoughts James thinks that Q’s hair was designed to be enjoyed in private, exclusively by him.

“Keep doing that,” Q mumbles. James obliges and pushes Q’s fringe away from the boy’s forehead before twisting another strand in his fingers. In response Q throws an arm further over James so that he’s resting even more completely on top of the agent. He hums again.

“Did you know you whisper sweet nothings in your sleep, Q?”

“Yes, it’s called somniloquy; It’s a sort of parasomnia.” Bond has learnt that Q is never too tired or too distracted to summon a smart-arse response if there’s an opportunity. Well, almost never, James has made quite a study of when he’s made Q speechless.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I doubt it. And I doubt I whisper sweet nothings…it’s usually more along the lines of ... the purple flag…no we’ll lose the battleship … we need more tea, more…”

Bond’s chuckling now, Q’s impersonation of his sleep talking was scarily accurate. Last night the boy had waxed lyrical about the need for Tanner to move the potatoes away from the dinosaurs. He’d yelled out a one point: “James, stop, we move know cucumbers are superior vegetables.” 

Q’s sleepy ramblings weren’t romantic or sensual but they were damn hilarious. Q looked up at the secret agent and smiled.

“Yes, nothing even remotely sexy about the bollocks you talk in your sleep.”

“Mhmm, James, there…” Q murmured still in his sleepy tone. “Like that, hmm. Oh James –“

James laughed again. Q was being purposefully ridiculous moaning and calling out the agent’s names whilst still pretending to be sleeping. Then the boy moved fluidly so that he was hovering above the other man, arms pinned on either side of James head to hold himself up.

Q’s grey eyes meant the beautiful blue of the man underneath him. Grinding down slightly he manages another smart-arse response whilst James merely moans and thrusts upwards.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think that’s more suited for when we’re awake and can act on it. Don’t you think?”


	2. Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Song is called Back to Sleep by Frank Turner. [Listen to it here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ygCY5YI8TI)* **

_Slumber-blind I speak my mind_

_When I'm out cold (or so I'm told)_

_*_

Q doesn’t fall asleep when they finish. He lies on the bed beside Bond in silence. Bond falls asleep; he doesn’t recover as quickly as Q. Q lies there listening to the sound of London and the slow and steady breathing of the man that was sleeping silently next to him.

Damn him.

Q gets up, pulls on clothes and starts working. 

When Bond wakes the bed is always empty and Q is working or reading or watching something on his computer. Q is always drinking tea and sometimes when he looks up at the (fully dressed) agent and smiles sleepily Bond feels that he’s keeping the young boy up.

James knows he’s not allowed to stay the night.

Q knows if he falls asleep Bond will hear him talking. Bond will hear all of Q’s secrets. If Q falls asleep he might end up telling Bond that he thinks he loves him.

Bond isn’t allowed to the stay the night. It’s safer that way.

*

_And so I'm scared to rest my head in company._

_You're not scared of words unsaid,_

_You close your eyes, say your goodbyes_

_*_

Q needs to sleep. The agency is flying him out tomorrow. Unavoidable flight. He’s well prepared, anti-anxieties and passport already packed but Q knows he needs to sleep.

They finish. Q pulls away from Bond immediately. They have ended up at Bond’s flat and it makes this slightly easier.  Q pulls on his clothing quickly, he needs to sleep and that means he needs to leave and get away from Bond as quickly as possible.

When he’s fully clothed Q mutters something about an early flight.

James doesn’t need to be told that Q doesn’t want anything more than a calming fuck occasionally. He doesn’t need to be told and he sure as fuck doesn’t need whispered excuses as Q’s scrambling into his cardigan. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of Q’s mouth around his cock.

“Goodbye, Q.”

 *

_And so I'm left to watch you drift away from me_

_So peacefully._

_*_

Q feels slightly terrible. There’s a hint of soul crushing terribleness as he pulls on his shoes and lets himself out of Bond’s penthouse apartment.

He can see from Bond’s face that he’s already far away when Q says goodbye. Q thinks that Bond must be thinking of someone else.

Brunette, slim, pale: Bond has a type. Female, he doesn’t always stick to it.

Q tries to shrug off James’ peaceful look but the nagging terrible feeling is still there.

 *

_And I'm just looking for the person_

_Who will smile at all my questions,_

_Who will tell me I'm just tired, and then send me_

_Back to sleep._

_*_

It’s not what he wants. It’s not what he needs. Every time Q rolls away from Bond, either to leave for his own flat or to find some distraction to keep him awake, he hesitates.

He wants to be honest with Bond. He wants to tell James the real reason he can’t fall asleep next to him. Q desperately wants to ask James about everything, he wants them to talk about their relationship properly. He wants to be more than a casual fuck.

Q knows that’s not going to happen. Bond’s not going to tell Q that he’s just tired and worrying unnecessarily. Bond isn’t going to pull the covers over them as they fall asleep because this James Bond and he does not do relationships.

 *

_You stole the covers in the night,_

_You turned away, turned out the light,_

_But it's OK because I'm already miles away._

_*_

In London, James Bond curls up in his empty bed. He’s not sleeping well, the covers are pulled to far this way and that by Bond’s constant tossing and turning. Someone ought to be pulling them back, keeping them spread evenly over the two of them. No one is because no one’s there. James Bond sleeps alone.

In the skies above London Q turns stows his book in his carry on luggage and turns the overhead light off. He pulls out a blanket, turns away and tries to sleep. It doesn’t matter; the sedatives will keep him quiet. And either way Bond is already miles and miles away. 


End file.
